Three Words to Live By
When I lived in Key West in the late ’70s, early ’80s, a well known local contractor, whose name now eludes me (a fraction of a brain cell thinks his first name was Carl, but I have zero-percent confidence in that), was busted at sea in the Gulf of Mexico smuggling some large quantity of marijuana from the Yucatan. When the Coast Guard boarded his boat and arrested him, he had just three words to say, which were quoted in…
